


deus est mortuus.

by baeconandeggs, candybaeks



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action, Angst, Apocalypse, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybaeks/pseuds/candybaeks
Summary: Baekhyun learns that sometimes on the path of survival, you don't always need to be alone.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han
Comments: 50
Kudos: 142
Collections: BAE2020





	deus est mortuus.

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** BAE488  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author's Note:** my longest fic i've ever written. please enjoy. <3

**MAY 19.**

It was around 3 pm when Byun Baekhyun landed in Busan to mass amounts of mediocre artwork and an impossible-to-miss "WELCOME" sign; scribbles of nonsense covered the negative space where his family's obnoxious font didn't quite reach. He guessed it might've been his little sister, (her name), contribution. Smiling and waving, he dragged his suitcase behind him with a hidden dread. His family stood outside of the security exit, greeting him. “Welcome home, Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun liked his time at university. Being far from home was refreshing, and since he came from a small town, freeing. At his dorm, he wasn't very far from anything except a convenience store or two, he didn't need a car to get anywhere decent, and not everyone knew everyone. He had to return home since he wasn't taking summer courses––having learned the hard way that those weren't a good idea––so here he was, face to face with the loving family who eventually would toss him in the car and drive him straight to isolation. It'd been less than a day, he hadn't even made it out of the airport, and he already missed his friends back at the university.

His mother took his luggage from him once he made it within arms reach of them and with newly empty hands he took the opportunity to scoop his sister up. She was six years old, chubby cheeked and excited to have her big brother back, squishing his cheeks together with her small palms and eliciting laughter from both herself and Baekhyun.

"Hi, princess Bomi! I'm home, did you miss me?"

She nodded, little head moving at such a high speed it made Baekhyun laugh again. His parents were too busy with work most of the time to really do more with her than just care for her basic needs. Bomi's big brother being home was a ray of sunshine for the child––it meant playing house, dressing up dolls, and bedtime stories every single night.

"Let's go get in the car so we can go back to the house, okay? And then we can play games together!"

Little sister in his arms, he followed his family to the car.

He didn't know that that would be the last time he made that drive home.

**JULY 23.**

"Mom?" Baekhyun's voice was shaky, fearful. His mother was hunched over, gurgling, groaning, making noises he thought weren't very human-like. "Mom, I'm gonna call 911, okay?"

He pulled out his phone and frantically dialed, but to no avail. No answer, no service. Nothing but an ear-aching dial tone.

_ What is going on? Isn't 911 supposed to be reliable? _

"Is mama okay?" His little sister's voice squeaked, arms curling around his calf as he bent down to give her head a soothing pat.

"I don't know, princess. You go back to your room and hide, okay? I'll help mama and then come find you. Like hide and seek!"

"Hide and seek! Okay, I go hide!"

He gave her cheek a soft pinch, telling her it might take him a while to come get her. Don't stop hiding until big brother says.

Hesitant, he approached the quivering body of their mother. She had been sick for a day or two, his father as well, both having been home sick from work, thinking they'd just passed an illness between each other. Her fever had suddenly spiked only a few hours before which worried Baekhyun but his mother had insisted she was okay––refusing to visit the hospital and even stubbornly working from home via her laptop instead of resting. Minutes ago, she collapsed onto the floor in a hunched over lump, completely unresponsive to anything from Baekhyun until she began to gargle and groan, body twitching in its same form. To say he was anxious was an understatement but he'd suffer through it for his sister. Bomi was  _ definitely _ too young to be subject to something as traumatic as this. Something felt off. Reaching out to tap her shoulder, his hand hadn't even made contact with it before she whipped around and snarled. Her eyes were lifeless, her jaw was clicking, and she looked like something had possessed her. She lunged for his hand and he pulled it back immediately––and luckily––out of reflex, scrambling away from the monster that lifted itself up off the floor.

That wasn't his mother.

His palms were shaking, sweaty.

_ What do I do, what do I do. Fuck, Baekhyun. This isn't a video game, you don't have unlimited time to come up with a solution and there definitely isn't a restart button. You only have one save file. _

His hand reached for the chef's knife on the counter, fumbling and trying to grasp the handle as the monster with his mother's façade ran towards him. The creature was overcome with a hunger so strong all he could hear was the sound of teeth clashing together.

He picked up the knife.

Tumbling towards him was a gruesome image. The once soft features of his mother's face now crinkled, drawn in a permanent snarl. 

"I'm sorry."

Baekhyun knew what he had to do. There was no way around this situation without either him, or the woman he had once fondly looked upon as a role model, dying. Inner turmoil caused hesitation––he should be readying himself for the fatal move, preparing himself to lunge the knife into the unaware body. But all he could think about was his mom. Would it be better to let her destroy him, rip him apart? If she survives, there'll be a cure for whatever is causing this frenzy, maybe she'd be okay. How could he kill his own mother? 

Then his father and sister came to mind. The man was asleep in the bedroom, unconscious and a perfect target for this monstrosity presented to him. What if his dad were to die as a result of his lack of attack? What if Bomi were to leave her room to find her brother's guts all over the carpet, her father mangled in his sheets, and her mother lunging in her direction. He doesn't know what's wrong with his mom, but one thing's for sure: he cannot let Bomi die.

As soon as she came within arms reach, the knife pierced her flesh and the unusually brittle bones of her skull, and soon the clicking stopped. 

Letting go of the wooden hand-hold, she fell to the ground, and with her followed his tears.

What was he supposed to tell Bomi? Nothing. He didn't get a chance to tell Bomi anything before a blood curdling scream broke loose.

_ Fuck. No, no, no. _

Trembling hands tugged the bloodied knife out of the newly deceased creature, legs stumbling over themselves as he bolted towards the open door of his sister's room. The sounds coming from inside were enough to make him wretch.

The tearing of flesh, a soft gurgle that he wasn't sure if it was coming from the monster hunched over or his sister herself. The streams of blood inching towards him as his sister’s wounds increased in intensity.

It was painful both to hear and to see.

He snuck up on the creature, it's facade akin to that of his father. Broad shoulders moving with every rip and tear of his sister's form, gray hairs that were far too long since it'd been awhile since his last haircut, and pajamas still adorning his body as if he were still in bed moments ago. He should've told her to shut the door. 

But he hadn't.

The sounds of teeth gnawing at skin stopped with the quick stab and withdrawal of the same knife he had used to kill his mother. Gargling, trembling, choking on its own blood––the creature struggled before it went lifeless. Removing the weapon for the second time today, a sharp intake of air filled his lungs just enough to carry him through the motions.

_ One... two... _

His eyes drifted to his sister's spasming form. Her eyes were wide but distant, staring up into nothing—body in shock from the pain. There was no hope for her survival. If he didn't kill her, she would end up as one of them. He wanted nothing less than to save her the agony.

He closed his eyes.

_ Three. _

With eyes squeezed shut and hands trembling, the knife removed life from it's final victim that day. A mercy kill. No six year old deserved to suffer a pain like that. 

This time the knife wasn't removed; there was nothing left for him, no reason to defend himself. Everything in his world had crumbled all at once. His tired body slumped itself into the corner of Bomi's room, arms encircling calves and forehead resting against his knees. The tears began as a slow outpour, slowly ramping up from quiet to sobs so harsh his body trembled. His parents were dead, his sister was dead.

_ I killed them. _ He unraveled from his ball to lay flat against the floor, finding it harder and harder to breathe as the panic and grief settled in his bones.  _ I killed them. They're dead. They're gone.  _ He fell asleep there, in the corner of his sister's room, crying for hours until his body lacked enough energy to continue. Accompanied by the stench of death, Baekhyun's story began.

**PRESENT DAY.**

The air was cold, bringing a chill to his bones. He really needed to scavenge for a winter coat; time was running out before unbearable cold would settle in.

It had been about two years since the world flipped on its axis. He had learned so much in such a short time––how to take care of himself, how to scavenge, and unspoken rules in this new era. He could cope much better with it now than he could at the beginning and knew what locations to avoid when out and about after  _ several _ near death experiences.

But his adaptation to this gruesome reality wasn't without flaw. He still remembered, vividly and painfully, the very first day of the apocalypse. Every time he closed his eyes, it played like some sadistic horror film behind them.

The wind made winter much more brutal, adding another layer of chill that even the cannibalistic creatures seemed to dread. It wasn't a conscious dread, of course. All they thought about was devouring the flesh of both living and freshly deceased beings. However, the cold seeped into their decaying bodies and slowed them down. Walkers, he called them. All they did was walk, slowly but terrifyingly—jaws clacking as their teeth ached to dig into a meal. There wasn't much information on them other than that––the downfall of humanity came quickly. News reports down, no updates from the government, a lack of phone service. Only death and destruction. Something he figured out on his own was that the walkers originated from city workers; his parents were commuters, they traveled hours every day to do their jobs, and it seemed cities were hotspots. Ones that were newly turned looked almost exactly as they did when they were human save for lack of pigment in their eyes and a sickly skin tone, ones that had been around from the start had a sort of fungi growing from their rotting flesh. 

He found it was much safer to travel in the winter––much safer to hole up and rest as well if need be without risk of being eaten in his sleep.

The only issue was this high amount of safety and ease of travel brought along the one thing people truly needed to be afraid of in this apocalyptic hellscape: other people.

The living were much more dangerous than the dead. You can predict the movements of the dead: how they'll react, how they'll behave, how long it would take them to reach you before you could get them first or escape. The living are nimble, quick, manipulative. Baekhyun learned that the hard way. People were to be avoided, you cannot trust the living.

For the first month after the end of the world, he had been with a small group of people. Jongdae, Minseok, Kyungsoo. He remembers their names very clearly. 

Jongdae and Minseok were a couple, Kyungsoo was just their friend from university. The three of them had been out to lunch together when someone broke in through the window. Jongdae had described the event as " _ just totally insane, bro. _ " The scene following was pure panic, absolute mania––the trio of friends making it out of the city with luck, where they wandered until they found Baekhyun in the woods.

It was a decent survivalist group, but it did not last. With the apocalypse came the fall of the Korean government and the rise of deceit and corruption within its country’s people. Power was in numbers and skill, weeding out the weak. Natural selection became more than what you read about in textbooks, it became a reality. The strongest held the lives of the less adequately equipped in their hands, and as soon as they decided it was your turn to die, you were at their mercy. 

Jongdae became the leader of their group with Minseok at his side. The two of them decided who watched their hideouts for the night, who scavenged, and who had time off. At first, it was decided by the whole group, a vote of sorts, but before Baekhyun realized he and Kyungsoo began to do all the work.

When Kyungsoo argued one night, refusing to go on guard duty for the sixth day in a row, they responded with a gunshot. Right between the eyes.

Baekhyun went to scavenge the next day, taking a backpack with a gun, extra ammo, a knife, a blanket, and a few other essential supplies with him. He didn't return. He doesn't know where Jongdae and Minseok are now. Whether they're still alive or not––he could care less.

He learned quite a few lessons while he was with them. Always knock on closed doors in houses and if you hear any noise on the other side, you have enough time to flee before you're caught in a deadly situation. Never stay in the basement of any building, because even though it's more hidden, you're less likely to make it upstairs and out before you're killed. Avoid dead ends––you never know what might be lurking at the end of that alleyway, or what might wander in while you think you're safe. If your gut says avoid it,  _ avoid it. _

Instincts are your savior.

His feet trudged through the snow, legs aching as the wetness crept through his pants legs. It was difficult not to slip on the ice forming beneath his shoes; they weren't made for snow, but they'd make due.

He could see a small wooden cabin not too far in the distance between the safeguard of the tree trunks, a perfect place to hole up for the night. Relief washed over him; finally a place to sit and rest after walking through snow for days––how many? he wasn't sure, but his body needed rest. The windows weren't boarded up, which was quite an unusual sight nowadays but perhaps it meant safety––if a window was boarded up, someone may be located inside. He peered in them first, checking to see if the cabin was clear of any signs of life and it seemed to be. Maybe there'd be a jacket in here he could take too, or a pair of boots. Checking the windows, it seemed a few weren't locked but it took him awhile to find one that wasn't completely frozen shut.

Prying the window open proved to be a difficult task, but would he give up the opportunity to warm up? No. Baekhyun was tired, numb, soaked from mid-calf down and nearly plummeting into ground from his crippling exhaustion. The windows caved and swept up halfway with a groan. Heaving himself through the small gap he created, Baekhyun found himself entering a gold mine of supplies. Jackets greeted him from the open closet door of the room and upon further inspection of the entire cabin––after closing the window of course––a stockpile of food and first aid.

A small burner, one that someone usually would take on camping trips, still seemed to have some life in it and the cabinets in the kitchen contained multitudes of untouched cooking utensils. Grabbing a pot, a ladle, and a can of beans, he made himself the first warm meal he'd had in a  _ long _ time. His stomach rumbled as the smell of food wafted up to his nose and he almost contemplated digging into a cold can too, but that would be a waste of supplies. He only needed to eat what would get him by.

While the beans cooked, he changed into a pair of clothes he found in the drawers, deciding to abandon his old pants for a new, less torn pair whilst also bundling up in one of the less thick of the jackets. He needed a thicker one, he knew, but it'd be harder to shove in his backpack come the end of winter. There's no room to carry cold-weather necessities around everywhere. Baekhyun found a pair of rather nice boots too, letting his sneakers dry beside the burner, using the heat as a dryer while his food heated up. The boots were a little large on his feet but they would make due, however he wasn’t looking forward to breaking them in. He’d just have to suffer through the blisters for now. 

Now warm on the outside, the beans did a good job of helping warm up the rest of his body. He ate rather quickly, trying to beat the sun so he still had some sunlight left to get settled. Any source of light after dark, especially in a single story cabin with no boarded windows, was asking to be a beacon of attraction for anything potentially dangerous. He set up a makeshift bed on the floor of a storage room he had found under the stairs using light that filtered in through the open door. Once everything was in place, he shut the door and gave himself the luxury of light. Using the lantern, he stuffed a spare towel in the bottom of the door frame. It kept the light from seeping out of the room, and also helped insulate his small space a little more. Warm and safe, he fell asleep with the company of flickering lantern light.

The lantern had blown itself out at some point in the night, and thankfully so, as his nightmares had caused him to thrash and remove the towel from its spot blocking the light. But that didn't seem to be the biggest problem. He was well rested, alert, and the footsteps outside his cupboard under the stairs were terrifyingly loud. Someone had infiltrated the cabin, and he had broken one of his rules. 

There was no easy-access escape, he had forced himself into a corner. It was a waiting game—the person needed to either leave or find him, and he rather hoped he'd escape with his life. It felt like the beginning of the end of the world again as he pushed himself into a cornered spot away from the door so his shadow wouldn't show through the crack. He should be safe as long as they don't check the little door.

_ Please do not check under the stairs. _

His pleas were not answered though. The door creaked open and all Baekhyun could do was lock eyes with the man who had opened it, hand clutching his knife in fear. His heartbeat was in his ears and bile was rising into his throat; he felt like a rat in a trap.

But the man made no move to harm him, simply blinking and pulling his hand back from the door. He was quite tall, at least from what Baekhyun could tell from his spot on the floor. Very lanky, didn’t seem like he could put up much of a fight––seemed far more friendly than most people were nowadays. There was a gun in his pocket, but he didn’t seem to be making any movements for it.

“Sorry, I wasn't aware that someone was staying here.”

Baekhyun responded with a silent furrow of his brow. How confusing… just found another living person and the first thing he does is apologize?

“I promise I haven't taken anything. I wouldn't do that to someone else who isn't infected. My name's Chanyeol, by the way!” Chanyeol reached out his hand to offer Baekhyun help getting up, but he shrugs it away and stands up on his own, dusting off his knees. 

He's really…  _ friendly. _ How foreign and naïve.

“It's not my cabin.”

“Huh?” 

“You can take what you want, the cabin is free game.” Baekhyun wasn’t up for conversation right now. Fight or flight was telling him to go, wary glances being cast between Chanyeol and the visibly open door.  _ Odd… the front door was locked earlier. _

“Oh—really? There's so much here, my group’s been using it for awhile but I figured when I found you it meant it was yours—”

“Just untouched camping supplies.” He didn’t like the sound of a group whatsoever.

Baekhyun shrugged his backpack back onto his back, pushing past Chanyeol to leave his little temporary safe haven. He kept his knife in his hand just in case.  _ What a bother…  _ He thought to himself, tightening his grip on both the knife and his backpack strap.  _ Found a decent place to hole up in for at least a few days and some stupid stick-legged dude had to ruin it.  _

“W-Wait! You can stay here! I'm not looking to intrude, I have a group waiting for me somewhere else.”

Baekhyun turned to face him, only a few steps away from the exit––visibly irritated. “You'd just come back.”

“No—”

“That's how groups work in this world. They take and take and take until locations that were once treasure troves are stripped completely bare. If there are supplies here that are valuable to your…  _ group,  _ you'll be sent back. I'm not waiting to be killed, not like Kyungsoo.” By the time Baekhyun’s rant was finished, he realized he had been waving his knife at a terrified Chanyeol. Chanyeol nodded vigorously, face pale as a ghost before realization hit him and he seemed to beam.

“Kyungsoo? Jongdae talks about a dude named Kyungsoo all the time! He tells us all stories about his days with his friends!”

Baekhyun flinched, blanching. If his gut was saying go before, it definitely wasn't holding back now. Squatting down to lace up his new boots and checking to make sure he had everything he wanted from the cabin in his bag, he turned towards the now open door. He didn't quite get out before he felt a hand on his shoulder, muscles tensing and the hand on his knife curling tighter into the handle.

“You didn't tell me your name…”

Chanyeol winced at the glare Baekhyun gave him, blinking in confusion as his hand slowly retracted.

“Tell Jongdae you met Baekhyun today, and that he needs to keep Kyungsoo’s name out of his filthy fucking mouth.” 

Baekhyun left the boy frozen in shock, dumbstruck in the doorway with his hand in the air.

_ Baekhyun…  _

It wasn't an encounter Chanyeol would forget, nor was it one Jongdae would let slide. A picture was passed around their camp that day. Extra rations for anyone who could bring Baekhyun back to Jongdae, alive. Jongdae gave Chanyeol an extra ration that day as praise for his discovery of Baekhyun still existing. He told everyone that it was Baekhyun who had killed the Kyungsoo guy he talked about, and that Baekhyun was a thief. Jongdae wanted to  _ reform  _ him.

**FEBRUARY 20TH.**

The city wasn't the safest place to be. The streets were infested, as were many of the buildings. But Baekhyun learned that just made it harder for him to get caught. 

He'd been staying in an old apartment complex on the edge of the city, crawling into an upper level room via the fire escape and using supplies from inside the empty apartment to create a hinged window board. That way, no one would come in through his escape route if they thought there was no access—only he knew the wood was pushable. Just in case, though, he would lock the window itself whenever he returned to limit anyone even trying to get in.

The living tended to avoid cities, though some gangs would take a few over using military supplies. Those were the major cities, and anyone in their right mind would stray away from them. The apartment complex was located in one of the smaller cities and if there was a group here they weren't the kind to patrol the streets and kill on sight—there wouldn't be half as many walkers out and about if they were. His apartment was on the fourth floor of the building, locked from the inside for safety and filled with extra blankets to keep him warm. It felt good to sleep in a real bed but he couldn't let himself get used to it.

The past month here had been kind to him, but he wouldn't let down his guard. Things never stayed good for long. He could picture Kyungsoo telling him to relax. “We're going to be fine. Enjoy the comfort,” he'd say whenever Baekhyun would get caught up in looking out the window, even when the two of them weren't on guard or scavenge duty. But Kyungsoo was gone and for that reason he couldn't ease up. He'd seen the way the living kill their own, seen the way the dead have no thoughts in their mind but to rip apart flesh piece by piece. He'd be dead by sunrise if he gave completely into luxury; he needed to be ready, no matter the time of day, to flee down the fire escape.

Hiding in the apartment complex wasn't too bad though, it made it easier to loot through the city without having to go far. Most of the buildings were close enough that he could hop from roof to roof and get some of the untouched rooms on the higher floors. No one really looted cities; the first floors of most buildings were either completely clean of supplies, or the streets so full of undead that they could take down a single human being without much difficulty––hence why if cities were ever taken over, it was done by groups.

He got lucky the past few rounds. Duffel bags of canned goods, a burner, gas refills, batteries, matches. He played the apocalyptic lottery and hit the jackpot. On tonight's menu––some warm canned peaches. The nice, caramelized flavor was luxurious for a cold, starved stomach.

The peaches were almost ready when chatter rose to the window from the city streets. Human noise, which wasn't really a good sign––voices talking amongst themselves without a care. Quite loudly, he observed, and purposefully so. He knew exactly what they were trying to do; draw the dead out so others could loot while the rooms were clear. Immediately, he moved away from the  _ very _ delicious peaches to do a safety run through his hideaway. 

He double checked the locks on the front door. The original tenants had only managed to board up some of the windows, so all Baekhyun had to do was to make sure the curtains were drawn in each of those rooms that were open instead of boarded up. *He took the chance to peek out a nearby window only to regret it as he saw what lied below. The silhouette on the ground was very familiar to him, the one beside it equally so. 

_ Jongdae and Minseok.  _

Of course they'd be here. Every muscle in his body seemed to scream with fear. He had to run to a window away from the figures view to throw up out of it, unable to keep the bile in as anxiety seemed to wreck through his guts. He slunk out of the room, turning off the burner, appetite completely ruined by the sight of them. If the duo and their crew decided they wanted to stay here, this had been his last warm meal. Especially if they were to patrol––there's no way he'd make it out of here unscathed. Perhaps he'd be trapped, perhaps he'd be able to flee. Baekhyun could be sitting like an oblivious deer beneath the scope of a hunter. He felt the walls closing in with no way out. All he could force himself to think about right now was finishing these peaches, for his hungry stomach and for the sake of not wasting his limited supply of food.

He could hear the growling sounds outside, the mass amount of noise hard to miss in the usually quiet landscape. 

And then incredibly unnerving silence.

There were no gunshots. No screams. Just silence.

Baekhyun peered out of the window again, curious of the scene below, but all he saw was a bunch of men with guns, and lots... lots of dead bodies. How...?

_ Silencers. They have silencers. _

That just made everything even more terrifying. 

He cracked the window open enough to hear their voices more clearly, hiding underneath the windowsill.

"Are you sure he'll be here?"

_ Chanyeol? What the fuck does Chanyeol want with me? _

"Baekhyun is a smart boy. But he's alone, there's only so much you can do by yourself."

_ Jongdae. That explains it.  _ There wasn’t much else to say there. The man was a charmer––Chanyeol probably hates him now.

"How do you suppose we catch him?" The scuffling continued.

"Check every floor, of course. If there's signs of life, it could be him. If not, then we have new recruits for the group."

Baekhyun closed the window. 

He had an extra burner and plenty of pots. He'd need to sacrifice the peach coated pan and empty can to draw them away from him. He snuck down the hall, slipping the items into one of the unlocked rooms––sneaking back to the apartment and locking the door again.

Then he migrated back to his entry room; the one with the window exit to the fire escape. Baekhyun needed to hear them, but they didn't need to hear him. Small sounds of breathing were less audible from rooms away, but loud conversation was much easier to discern. 

They made it to the fourth floor of his building rather quickly. He could hear them––jiggling locks and slamming doors open. 

"What's that smell?"

"I think it's... peaches?"

"Someone's been cooking,  _ huh _ ."

He could hear how close they were, every muscle in his body tensing up as the anxiety began to pump adrenaline through his veins. Fight or flight was settling in. Baekhyun wasn't the religious type, but he found himself praying to every diety in existence. 

"See anything?"

"Just an empty pot. It's still warm." Baekhyun could hear the cling of metal as the pot was tossed away. 

"Check every inch of the room."

The sound of them rummaging through the neighboring room was enough to make his heart race. As long as he was quiet, they wouldn't try to break into his room. He hoped they wouldn't.

"Anything?"

"Nothing."

"Such a shame... We'll find him soon. His legs can only carry him so far."

"Are you sure it's him?"

"Baekhyun taught me this trick, you know? Anything with a smell, you put it somewhere you aren't... To get people off your trail."

_ Fuck.  _ He'd forgotten he'd used the scent trail trick before. The first week of them having been a group was spent hopping from building to building nightly––getting themselves out of the city day by day. Seoul was taken over by a gang, one of the ones that doesn't even  _ attempt _ to recruit––they just  _ kill. _ Jongdae would pick locks so they could hide in rooms the gangs wouldn't try to check, and they'd leave the rooms long enough to hop from building to building or place pans in other rooms to keep the attention of those on patrol elsewhere.

He could hear the door knob jiggling. 

_ Please turn away. Please turn away. _

Click.

"And if there's anywhere he'd be, it's here."

He wasted no time in grabbing his backpack. It was always ready to go, he was too afraid of scenarios like this to leave himself unprepared. He fumbled with the plywood, pushing the window up and launching himself out onto the fire escape. He could hear the room door slamming open as he made his way down, but there was no way they'd catch him if he kept going.

He made it to the bottom and turned to run down the alley. A direct exit into the woods. 

Then he felt a force collide directly with his stomach, falling backward with a person now hovering over him. He coughed, squinting up at the man's face. 

"Minseok..?"

"Where are you going so soon, Baekhyunnie?"

He struggled, trying to get up from the ground, but Minseok's grip on his arms was strong. 

"I know we have a difficult past, but you can look past that right? Come with us, have a chat."

Baekhyun spit in his face. Minseok responded by pushing him down harder with one hand on his throat, the other wiping the spit off. 

"I'd rather end up like K––"

"Now now, Baekhyun. That's not a way to greet your old friends, is it?" Jongdae's voice came from the sideline, footsteps slowly encroaching. He struggled more. Minseok relieved some of the pressure but still kept him held down.

"We're not friends anymore, you both know that." His glare was sharp, glancing between the two of them with distaste.

"But we can try, can't we? If you'd cooperate, things might go smoother for you." Jongdae flashed him a sickly sweet smile, nodding in Minseok’s direction and subsequently causing the other to release his grip on his throat. 

"Can't you just let me be alone? I haven't done anything to you."

"You're smart, Baekhyun." Jongdae crouched down, one hand cupping Baekhyun's cheek. "We could use those brains of yours. Contrary to how you feel, you're safer with us. I know you saw the bodies, you knew we were here after all."

"I don't have to go anywhere with you. I'd rather be dead."

"Stubborn as ever aren't you, sweetheart." 

Jongdae's free hand pressed a cloth over Baekhyun's face, the boy trying hard not to breathe in the odorless chemicals but eventually, his lungs couldn't take anymore. His body spasmed in protest before he went limp. Jongdae passed the cloth to Chanyeol to discard, and Minseok made haste in throwing Baekhyun over his shoulder.

"We'll talk more when you wake up."

Baekhyun woke up the next day in a cell. 

_ They really took this city over, didn't they.  _

He expected nothing less from Jongdae. Of course he'd become the leader of the thing they used to avoid––a gang. Power truly destroys reason, doesn't it.

"You're awake." Chanyeol's voice boomed.

It made Baekhyun's head throb. Chemicals and a slam against the pavement do not make a good combo. It also wasn't helping that his hands were quite literally tied behind his back. All pain was rushing to his head.

"Look who has eyeballs. Glad they're working for you." Baekhyun weakly spit. 

"Jongdae and Minseok want to talk to you."

"And I don't want to talk to them."

"You act like they did  _ you _ wrong." Chanyeol scoffed, glaring at him through the bars. "They told me what you did. How you stole their stuff and ran."

"What next, they're going to claim  _ I  _ killed Kyungsoo too? Pathetic. I didn't do shit to them. I was the one that scavenged for those supplies while they sat around and fucked, and made Kyungsoo listen to it every night while he kept guard."

"What are you insinuating?"

Baekhyun glanced over at the approaching figures, whispering just loud enough for Chanyeol to hear.

"Don't trust everything you're told. There's a reason I ran away and a reason they're still alive."

"We'll take it from here, Channie boy. You're free to go rest, you did well in helping find him."

Chanyeol gave a nod and headed down the hallway. What he wasn't expecting to hear as he turned to exit was a shrill scream, but he refused to turn back. Stomach in his throat, he left the building. 

_ I must be imagining things.  _ Chanyeol thought to himself, shaking his head.

**MARCH 1.**

Baekhyun wasn't sure how many days it had been at this point. He hadn't seen anyone other than Jongdae and Minseok. They only came to hurt him and feed him. Seeming to get off on the pain in his eyes as they cut into his skin. Disinfecting them and bandaging them up just to leave more. They'd tug at his hair, kick him.he thinks he might have a few burns

scattered across his skin as well. 

" _ Please. _ Just  _ kill me. _ "

He'd beg and beg through his sobs, wrists rubbing themselves raw as he tried to free himself from his restraints.

"We don't want you dead. We want you very much alive." Minseok would start.

"You just have to learn who's in charge. It's a lesson, Baekhyun. Are you learning yet?" Jongdae would finish.

Slumped in his corner, he found it difficult to breathe. As footsteps neared, his heart beat stuttered, chest heaving much faster. It was a preemptive panic. He couldn't take the pain anymore. 

"I... brought you some food."

Baekhyun winced at the voice, eyes glossy as they rose to lock with who he would come to recognize as Chanyeol.

"Go away." He coughed out, curling in on himself.

"It's my orders, Baekhyun. I was told to come check up on you."

The door to the jail cell opened. Baekhyun flinched, scrambling to get away from the man, but he was trapped. At least it wasn't his fault he broke a rule this time.

"Turn around."

"Please don't hurt me." Baekhyun repeated the phrase like a mantra, and Chanyeol couldn't help but feel pity.  _ Just what did they do to you? _

"I promise I won't. I was told to feed you, take your restraints off, and escort you to your own apartment." 

Baekhyun didn't believe it for a second, but he knew if he struggled, the pain would be worse. It was difficult to make himself turn around, it was hard to move when you could barely breathe. 

Much to his surprise, all Chanyeol did was remove the restraints. His wrists were raw to the point he'd stopped noticing, but having the restraints off felt so freeing despite that. Baekhyun turned back towards Chanyeol, avoiding eye contact with him. He noticed they were alone, Jongdae and Minseok must trust Chanyeol.

“You should eat next.”

“Can you take me wherever I'm supposed to go first? This isn't the best place to enjoy a meal…”

He did have a point there.

Helping the boy up, paying extra care towards his wrists, Chanyeol escorted him out of the jail and towards an apartment complex. Baekhyun made himself aware of his surroundings, analyzing every detail as they walked—most notably how many people were around. Jongdae and Minseok weren't just tyrant leaders of a small group, this was a whole colony of people. 

His apartment was in the middle of the hallway on the third floor of the building, windows boarded up in every room. He assumed they had made sure it was difficult for him to leave. At least they had been courteous enough to give him his burner back and a small stockpile of food. Chanyeol brought him over to the table, placing his food down in front of him.

“I'll be back to collect the plate shortly.”

And with that, Baekhyun was alone again. Though this time he liked the loneliness, because there was no dread to follow it. No fear. No anticipation. He could be alone and he didn't have to worry about having a knife pierce his flesh, or a foot make contact with his stomach. 

When Chanyeol returned to fetch the plate, he almost panicked when he didn't see Baekhyun immediately. He was injured, right? He wouldn't be able to escape, definitely not in broad daylight. If he was as smart as Jongdae and Minseok claimed, he wouldn't try to flee after what had happened to him, would he? But upon further inspection of the apartment, Baekhyun had just migrated to his room. Tucked under blankets, muttering gibberish as his eyebrows furrowed. One might even think it was cute. Chanyeol would leave him to sleep in peace.

**MARCH 20.**

Baekhyun had been quiet for the first two weeks after his release from the cell. He stayed cooped up in the apartment and didn't respond to anyone’s attempts to converse with him. The trauma from the week prior was enough to make him curl in and form a shell. He was afraid to make the wrong move, he was afraid to get hurt again. Slowly but surely, he did get a little more social. It was a gradual increase; pure silence and complete isolation slowly sloped into what it is today—a talkative jokester who spends his time being the comedic relief around the small city they had created.

But that was simply a fabrication.

Baekhyun was smart. He knew how to play his cards right, and after thinking it over in his room and letting the shock from his torture subside, he devised a plan. One that was innocent enough, no one would question it.

He started to tell stories of his past life before the apocalypse. He left out key details, nothing of true importance. It would be counterintuitive to give this camp of people ways to target his emotional weaknesses whilst trying to plot his way away from them, but he made sure to emphasize how much he missed drawing. Art was his stress reliever, he'd tell them. A mental escape that he was damn good at too.

Eventually, someone brought him back art supplies after they returned from a supply run. 

Now he could begin phase two.

Every night, he drew something—either completed or partially completed, to which he would eventually finish, but it made it feel more genuine when he had works in progress. He'd show it to everyone the next day, including Jongdae and Minseok, even drawing a cutesy picture of the two of them hugging. It made him gag, but he had to build trust. In the last few pages of the sketchbook were plans of how to escape, and no one suspected a thing as he showed them the sketchbook every day. 

Security began to dwindle from many people on watch to just enough to secure the perimeter from walkers or warn of an incoming horde.

Baekhyun’s plan had gone into effect.

At some point his backpack had been returned to him, none of the supplies inside of it removed. He kept it by the door and whenever they did curfew inspections, it would boost the trust in him to see his backpack in plain sight in the same spot each day. Baekhyun also started pretending to sleep, so that there were certain quirks those inspecting would see each night and deem normal. If he faked his sleeping habits long enough, they wouldn't bat an eye when the night of his escape fell upon them.

He continued this process up until around mid-April, he guessed. It had been almost a month. Too many days had passed for it to not have been that long, and with the weather getting slowly warmer, the raininess increasing, and the vines beginning their slow ascent up abandoned building sides, spring was creeping in.

When all was in place, he initiated destruction of evidence.

Jongdae and Xiumin liked to have bonfires at the end of every week. They called it a celebration. Of what? He didn't know. Perhaps living another week was cause for celebration for them. Baekhyun felt it was a waste of perfectly good wood and food that could have been rationed, but he wouldn't say that out loud. They could do as  _ they _ pleased, he was all set to go whenever  _ he  _ pleased.

Sketchbook loosely in hand, he pretended to trip. Someone caught him to keep him from launching into the fire, but his sketchbook landed smack in the middle of the flames, burning right before everyone's eyes. Crying wasn't too hard. Despite the fact he had wanted this outcome, it still was sad to see some pretty damn good artwork burn. His attachment to the pieces helped sell that it was an accident. They believed he tripped. They believed he didn't throw the book in the fire. They believed him, and that was their first mistake.

Since he'd lost the book, Jongdae and Minseok sent him back to his apartment early. 

“Rest up and chin up.” They told him. “We'll get you a new one soon.”

While no one was around, he took the opportunity to check the fire escape door. He could escape through the front of the building, of course, but his back up path was a much faster and less risqué way of freeing himself from the confines of this death trap of a community. 

He jiggled the doorknob. He wouldn't push it open just yet, not with everyone crowded by the fire in the middle of the street to see the door open.

Unlocked.

_ Bingo. _

All that was left to do was wait it out a few more days. Then, it's showtime.

**APRIL 26.**

It was quiet outside. Rooms had been checked for curfew compliancy, and the few guards set for duty had started their perimeter watching. No one was out and about except for the three or four circling the blocked off city area, looking for signs of hordes or even potential threats of individuals or gangs of living beings. 

Baekhyun was quick, silent. He slipped his backpack onto his shoulders, double-checked the hallway, and creeped his way down the fire escape.

Everything seemed clear.

His feet carried him to a gap in the fence, easing his way through it and heading towards the woods. Almost there, but not quite making it far enough when a hand grasped his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun put on the bright, friendly facade he had kept up. “I needed some fresh air.”

The taller males eyes seemed to soften. If he could push a little more, maybe he could ease his way out.

“It's past curfew, Baekhyun. You know you're supposed to be in your room.”

“I know… but I've been itching to draw, and they still haven't found me a new sketchbook…”

“So you're trying to find one yourself, huh?”

Baekhyun nodded.

“You could just ask Jongdae tomorrow. I don't think he'd mind letting you go on a run with someone else accompanying you.” Chanyeol chuckled, the smaller male frowning in response.

“I want to go alone.”

“No one’s allowed to go alone, you know that. Safety in groups of two at minimum.”

“I don't want to put anyone other than myself at risk…”

Chanyeol removed his grip from Baekhyun's arm.

“I know, but you know the rules. I won't tell Jongdae you left if you go back, okay?”

“Okay…”

Baekhyun slumped, making his best impression of a defeated sigh as he turned back towards the hole in the fence—keeping on hand on his backpack strap. He slipped one side off, waiting for Chanyeol to look away before he swung it around. Knocking the poor man down and into a lanky unconscious lump.

Shrugging the bag back on, he stepped over the awkward pile.

“Sorry.”

He muttered, though he knew Chanyeol couldn't hear it. Despite how apologetic he was, he knew the guards were doing their rounds and would eventually find the man, and Baekhyun would rather not be found standing over him. Pushing forward, he disappeared into the treeline.

When he looked back, the city was out of sight.

_ One of the people I least wanted to hurt. _

Now, he needed to find somewhere else to hole up.

**JUNE 1.**

It had been a long time since his escape from Jongdae’s small society. Not once did he stop anywhere for more than one night. Risky was the least of what he wanted to be after the torture they put him through, knowing Jongdae wasn't going to let him leave peacefully. The fear of being traced, watched was etched deep into his subconscious. Always on edge, never sleeping for more than a few hours. Exhaustion was starting to leave an ache in his bones. Ignorance was his best friend for the sake of safety.

A storm was on its way, nature was letting him know through the whistling of the wind and the heaviness in the air. For the first time in over a month, he felt enough security and distance from Jongdae to search for shelter. Even if they were looking for him still, no one would be dumb enough to traverse in the conditions that were soon to arrive. Whether Jongdae and his gang could read the signs or not, Baekhyun didn't care. He had the brains after all.

He stumbled upon a small town—the windows were all boarded up and the houses were looted to their core aside from mattresses and hefty blankets and other items people couldn't take with them. It was deserted, abandoned. Left for nature to overtake and coat in foliage. Baekhyun picked one of the more overgrown houses. The inside of the house was fine, but the outside had been almost completely covered—even the door was difficult to open due to the vines wrapping their way into a death sentence for the original way of life. Another smart move; pick the house that looks the most untouched, and they'll look for you in one with more signs of recent life.

Sure enough, the weather did go south. He had gotten settled in the house, picking a room to hole up and wait for the storm to pass. It had been maybe six hours since he'd arrived, he'd certainly been asleep for at least four, and the first clap of thunder roared loud and proud—waking him up from his slumber. Rain soon followed, crashing against the house in loud sheets. It was like a bucket in the sky had tipped over. The world was underneath a waterfall. 

Jongdae’s gang was certainly not going to reach him any time soon. 

_ Peace. _

But no quiet.

His body could care less about the loud noises bombarding the world outside the cozy room of the two story house. Exhaustion cut through the bomb-like thunder and roar of the rain. 

Baekhyun slept for almost twelve hours that night, the longest since before his capture.

His wake up call was much less peaceful. The door slammed open, the bang more disturbing than the sounds of the weather outside, and a gun pressed against his forehead.

“Chanyeol?”

The taller man hissed, nudging Baekhyun’s forehead with the cold barrel of the weapon.

“Jongdae sent me to retrieve you.”

“Have you been following me this whole time?”

No response.

“Chanyeol, look, we can talk this out. Please put the gun away.”

The glare was sharp. Baekhyun was aware he deserved it as he shifted into a sitting position with his eyes locked on the other’s own pair.

“I’m sorry I knocked you out but I had to leave. You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand? Betrayal? I was kind enough to let you go back to your room without reprimand and  _ you  _ had the audacity to whack me in the head and dash. I could have  _ died  _ if the patrol didn’t find me before a stray walker did.”

His tone was full of anger that made Baekhyun wince, the smaller male’s eyes drifting down towards his lap.

“I couldn’t stay. I can’t be around Jongdae and Xiumin, and I can’t handle the idea of being part of a gang. They’re horrible groups, Chanyeol, and that’s what your group is turning into.”

“They gave you nothing but kindness even after you killed their friend and ditched them not only once but now  _ twice. _ ”

“But I didn’t kill Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun’s voice was wavering, a soft crack in his words, but his tone was still fierce and defensive. How dare he accuse him of killing his own best friend. Chanyeol could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. It was enough to make his own heart clench despite his anger, the gun lowering to his side.

“Then tell me the truth.”

“Kyungsoo had been put on guard duty for the sixth day in a row.”

_ “I’m tired of it, Byun. Maybe I want to sit down and fuck something too for once, or sleep, or maybe get more than a snack in before I have to stab a walker in the head.” The anger laced in his tone was something Baekhyun could relate to, though he wasn’t as vocal as Kyungsoo was. _

_ Instead, he decided to joke with him. _

_ “What would you fuck, Kyung? The only other person here is me and I don’t think I’d fuck you.” _

_ “Listen—” His tone was offended, Baekhyun laughed in response. _

_ “But I’m serious, Byun. We used to vote on roles, now the both of them just call rest and force you to go hunting for supplies and me to stay on watch every single day. I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too.” _

_ He had a point. His distance from their safe zone was increasing with every supply hunt. Most of the houses close by had been cleaned out and it was getting harder to make those trips in a day maximum. _

_ “What do you propose we do?” _

_ “March right up to the two of them and give them a piece of our minds!” _

_ And that’s exactly what Kyungsoo did. He went inside, straight upstairs to their room with Baekhyun trailing behind him. _

_ “Jongdae, Minseok. We need to talk.” _

_ “Huh?” Minseok piped up, followed by Jongdae’s own question. “Danger on the way?” _

_ “I’m tired of being on guard duty. You guys need to do your job around here too. Baekhyun and I can’t do everything for you while you break the damn bed.” _

_ The two men just looked at each other. Something in Jongdae’s expression made Baekhyun’s anxiety spike. _

_ “It’s a shame you feel that way, Kyungsoo.” _

_ The man got up from the bed. Baekhyun noticed the gun in his hand, and Kyungsoo quickly started apologizing. _

_ “Listen J.D, you know I meant no harm by it—” _

_ “But you would if I kept you alive.” _

_ Jongdae’s arm rose, barrel centered directly on Kyungsoo’s forehead. Not even a goodbye, no apologies, nothing was uttered before the gun went off, just a cruel smile on the man's lips as Kyungsoo's lifeless body fell to the floor. Ears ringing, Baekhyun covered his mouth—silenced by shock, cheeks wet with fearful tears. _

_ “Baekhyun, why don’t you rest for the night. It’s back to your usual duties tomorrow.” _

_ All Baekhyun could do was nod, turning on his heels and heading back to his own room.  _

_ He didn’t sleep that night.  _

By the time he had finished recounting the story, he was having trouble speaking. His voice was breaking, his eyes were losing focus as tears began to flood them. It had been awhile since he’d thought of Kyungsoo’s death in such vivid memory, since he’d let his thoughts intrude upon his composure. 

"Sehun."

Baekhyun blinked in confusion, looking up through wet lashes at Chanyeol as he hiccupped and tried to even his breathing.

"Huh?"

“Sehun. He was my best friend. I told him how they were treating you… the screams I would hear in the building and how they refused to let anyone near your cell. A few days later, Minseok announced Sehun was dead. Claimed he had been bitten on guard and they had given him a mercy death. But after hearing your story…”

Baekhyun sniffled, breathing still shaky but much less panicked, much less labored. He wiped at his tears with the collar of his shirt.

“You think they killed him?”

“Yes. I think he went to confront them. They usually show us the bodies but I don’t remember them showing us Sehun’s. I left early regardless because that was my best friend, you know?”

The smaller of the two nodded in response, jumping a bit as the thunder outside grew louder. The storm was picking up momentum again. 

“And now you’ve gotta take me back to them.” Baekhyun’s voice was dejected.

“Do I?” 

“If you don’t come back with me, they’ll kill you.”

“I can make excuses.” Chanyeol hummed, shaking his head. “They hurt me last time I let you escape, what’s a few more bruises?”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“You were slick enough to escape once before.”

“Aren’t they with you?”

“Jongdae sent  _ me.  _ Only me. For the same reason I was the one to show you to your room, feed you, free you. Even if you escaped last time, he knows I wasn’t expecting you to knock me out.” Chanyeol grumbled, whispering to himself. “And leave me on the ground.” 

“Trust.”

“Yes. And I doubt if you're not with me when I return they'll do  _ too  _ much harm. I’m their prized pet.” Chanyeol’s voice was mocking, it made Baekhyun laugh.

“Well,  _ pet.  _ Do I get a headstart on my escape?”

Light started to peek through the boards on the windows; the weather was calm again, perfect.

"Sure, but don't expect to get too far. They'll send me out again."

"Oh, Chanyeol..." Baekhyun mumbled, getting up from the bed to wrap his arms around the taller male's waist. 

He had shown too much vulnerability for his comfort. He liked Chanyeol, he really did––sympathy for the poor boy berating his thoughts––but trust wasn't something he gave away easily. Not after Kyungsoo, never again. 

But it seemed Chanyeol liked him too.

_ Dangerous. _

He held him close, tiptoeing up to tug at his earlobe with his teeth. The gun fell from Chanyeol's hand as he shivered, arms encompassing Baekhyun's upper body.

"You..." He whispered in his ear, hugging him tighter and snaking a hand up towards his neck, cupping his nape with a soft hum.

"...really underestimate my abilities."

Chanyeol barely manages to register that Baekhyun's words are in fact a threat before the smaller of the two's fingers are pressing against the pressure point on his neck. Gangly limbs fold and he collapses to the ground in front of Baekhyun's feet, which proceed to step back.

He swapped Chanyeol's gun with his own. If the male was as well-adept as he thought he was, he could survive without a silencer until he got back to Jongdae.

He knew the other wouldn't think him a liar, he knew his moment of vulnerability had been too genuine to have been faked—Chanyeol knew it, and that's all that mattered to Baekhyun. He didn't want to be remembered as a liar.

Feet stepped over the unconscious male, hands lifting and placing backpack straps over broad shoulders. Fingers curled around the knob of the room’s entry door, sparing one last glance back before legs took off in a sprint; down the stairs and out the door, into the woods and away from which his journey had started. 

He hoped Chanyeol would understand, but a fraction of him also hoped he would learn to hate him.

To  _ loathe  _ him.

Because then, Baekhyun wouldn't have to worry about forming a connection with him—a friendship, a relationship, just for there to be a broken bond.

Because if he hates him, Baekhyun doesn't have to fear betrayal.

Baekhyun doesn't have to hate him too.

**JANUARY 11. 5 YEARS LATER.**

As the years passed, survival became harder and harder to maintain. Supplies were incredibly limited, people grew less and less friendly, and shelter was harder to find as nature began to overtake everything man had created.

Baekhyun was lucky to have made it this far. That had to be somewhat of an achievement.

In the past few years he had come in contact with Jongdae's gang at  _ least  _ three more times, but not once did they see him when he had seen them. Chanyeol was never amongst them and it worried him a bit––especially considering he had failed those  _ evil  _ men twice already. He wanted him to be safe, though he would never admit he cared for the lanky man.

Time had brought with it great change in Baekhyun. From lurking in the shadows and sneaking passed his assailants at the beginning to wielding a gun and a knife he proudly kept sharpened in present day. Much less of an easy target––he would say his kill count was rather  _ decent  _ of a number. But regardless, violence was never his go to option. If anything, he only used the knife and the gun when desperate or stuck; his stamina had grown quite a lot, and being small and quick on his feet, it was rather simple of a task for him to escape without any deaths as a result.

Though all luck had to run out eventually. 

Winter had always been a brutal season. His newfound ability to protect himself made him bolder. He broke his own rule; hiding out in the basement of a house—using the natural heat from being underground to keep himself warm, the concrete walls allowing him to light a small fire to cook safely as well without burning the decrepit house above him down. For days Baekhyun survived like this, warm and cozy in the small room. The only times he left were to hunt rabbits in the surrounding areas; tiny creatures but great sources of meat.

Good things must come to an end.

Shoes made harsh contact to the floors above his head. Many,  _ many  _ footsteps—he could hear them heading to the basement entrance. Too intact to be the undead; there was no way human noses couldn't pick up on the smell left behind by the recently extinguished fire.

_ Danger _ .

Jaw clenched, his hands fumbled for his gun and he stood there—finger on the trigger, barrel pointed at the stairs. If he was going to die, he'd face it head on.

“Baekhyun?”

_ How the fuck do they know me? _

The first of six men came into view. One of Jongdae’s old guards.

_ Fuck. _

“If it's Baekhyun then…” The third man piped up.

And the fifth man finished for him.

“Grab him.”

He managed to get two shots off—one in one man’s stomach, the other in another's arm, but obviously six versus one with nowhere to run meant imminent loss for Baekhyun. The gun was ripped from his hands only to make contact with his head; all he remembers is falling onto the floor, unfamiliar hands lifting his limp body up, before everything faded to a deep black.

He woke up in a panic, gasping for air as fear plagued veins like poison. The last thing Baekhyun wanted was to be Jongdae and Minseok’s prisoner again. Another beating would be too much for his body; stronger than ever before, but still so  _ weak _ without a weapon.

His wrists were restrained, metal digging in and leaving harsh rashes the more he struggled, but it didn't stop him from trying. 

“Baekhyun.”

The voice was deep.  _ Familiar.  _ Tear-coated eyes directed themselves towards the doorway. Cross-armed and leaning against the frame—Chanyeol. He looked.. stronger. Much less of a lanky, naive boy than Baekhyun remembers; it seems that there'd been changes for him too.

“Chan… Chanyeol?”

“I apologize for my men giving you a hard time.”

“ _ Your _ men?”

Confused at what he meant in more than one way, Baekhyun went to protest—but a sudden sharp pain in the back of his head reminded him of just exactly how he ended up here. Despite that, he continued anyway.

“I wouldn't say that. They made their intentions clear… And of course I wasn't going to win so… I gave them more trouble than letting myself go down easy.”

“They're fine. Got the two you shot resting and recovering.”

Chanyeol’s voice was a deep hum. Pushing himself off from the doorway, he sat on the side of the bed—removing the metal restraints from his wrists before lifting his large palms to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“I've missed you.”

Baekhyun stopped breathing for a moment.

“I don't remember our last interaction to have been a good one…”

“Not really, no.”

“Then why would you…?”

“You knocked me out. Twice. But both times were for your own safety. I'm not foolish, Baekhyun.”

He just looked at his hands.

“If you do it again, however, I will take it personally.”

“I—”

Chanyeol held a finger to his lips.

“Jongdae and Minseok are gone. You don't have a reason to run anymore.”

“W-What?! They're _ dead _ ?!” Baekhyun shouted, clearing his throat afterwards. “Sorry… Excuse me… I'm just- surprised…”

The taller of the two chuckled, fingertips dancing along Baekhyun's cheek with a tenderness the other wasn't exactly used to.

“I killed them. Over the course of three years, they only got worse. Our group got smaller and smaller; more  _ mysterious _ deaths, just like Sehun’s. They trusted me and I used that to my advantage. Slipped a few poison berries in their beverages and finished it off with quick cuts to their throats. Some men left on their own after that, others stuck with me—took me as the new leader. Our camp is small… but we have livestock, produce. Everything is done by vote, has been that way for two years.”

“Two years and you're not mad with power yet? It only took them months. I'm impr—”

“Stay here. With us.”

It threw him off a bit. Chanyeol interrupting him was one thing, but the way it seemed more of a command than a request was another.

“I don't do groups, Chanyeol.”

Calloused fingers gripped his chin. A glint in the man’s eyes made Baekhyun feel even weaker. It wasn't corruption, no… but there was definitely a different aura around him. The innocence Chanyeol held in the past was gone, but that's what the apocalypse does to people. It changes them. The lanky mass he used to be was replaced by a muscular build—which, Baekhyun had his own too; with legs being the only mode of transport and arms doing much more work than before—and the obedience he seemed to have, the qualities that made him the perfect pet for Jongdae and Minseok, was replaced by a dominating power. Chanyeol was strong now, physically  _ and  _ mentally.

“It wasn't a question. You'll be well protected.”

“I just don't want to get hurt again…”

“You know I'd make sure you're safe.” His voice was a soft murmur, the grip softening as his hand found purchase in cupping Baekhyun's cheek—forehead resting against his. “And if its other people’s safety you're worried about, I promise they'll be safe too.”

“Including… you?” 

It was hard for him, but he did it nonetheless. Confessed it right to Chanyeol’s face what he wanted to avoid, the feelings he was afraid of from the start.

He cared for him, and the last thing he wanted was to see him ever get hurt.

So he avoided him.

But now he's here, wrists sore, head aching, with Chanyeol so close to him he could feel his breath on his skin.

It made the man smile.

“Including me. I'll be safe, Baekhyun.”

"Promise?"

Lips pressed against softer ones, lightly chapped from the cold air.

"Promise."

This time Baekhyun leaned in, initiating a kiss full of a combination of many complex emotions. The kiss lasted for a while––their lips slotted together, moving slowly and tenderly with one another––until Chanyeol was the first to break away. Rough hands lifted Baekhyun's tattered shirt off of him, fingers tracing across the pretty chest that was revealed to him.

"You're beautiful, you know?"

"I'm covered in dirt." Baekhyun said flatly, resulting in a shake of the larger male's head.

"You're still beautiful."

He pulled back from the boy, holding out a hand for him to take.

"Let's get you cleaned up. We have running water and I'm sure we've scavenged clothes your size."

Taking his hand, the smaller male instantly beamed as he heaved himself to get up––excitement visible at the notion of running water.

"You mean... I get to shower?"

"Yes, Baekhyun. You get to shower."

Chanyeol showed him to the bathroom. It was only then that Baekhyun realized they were in a house. Not an apartment, no. They hadn't taken over a big city––but a small town. It made him curious. What exactly was life like here? Running water was  _ already  _ a big deal to him... and what else had Chanyeol mentioned? Livestock, produce. This place seemed like a utopia in this hellhole they called Earth.

The lights flickered on as Chanyeol's rough fingertip flicked the switch on the wall upward, and it was truly then that Baekhyun gave up on trying to plot a way to possibly leave. Food, water, electricity... safety. 

"You guys have electricity?"

"The town had a power plant. It took months of tinkering and hunting for supplies to fix it but..." His grin was wide, proud. "Now it's up and running."

Yeah.  _ Definitely  _ not going anywhere now.

"Where can I stay?" 

His question was laced with excitement. It was truly invigorating to have such access to what used to be common amenities. 

"Here. This house is all mine and it's quite big. There's plenty of rooms you can inhabit."

Baekhyun fistbumped the air with a soft 'yes!' which earned a chuckle from Chanyeol, who then proceeded to help the boy out of the rest of his clothes. They were quite worn––ripped in a few areas as well. He mentally made note to wash them and then see if any of the other members of their little town could patch them up. If not, there were plenty of scavenged items Baekhyun could have for his own clothing.

"Let's get you clean."

The smaller nodded in response to the taller's statement, watching as he removed his clothes as well and turned on the water. His hand went under the steady stream a few times to check the temperature, not wanting anything too cold for the boys' first shower in who knows how long––warmth was a rarity nowadays.

Once the shower was ready, Chanyeol gestured for Baekhyun to get in first and followed suit behind him, gently pushing the boy to rest under the stream. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back––the surface level dirt that hadn't essentially become a second skin on him yet slid off of him with the warm droplets of water and trailed down the drain. Everything seemed as good as it could get until Chanyeol's hands were massaging shampoo into his hair. Holy  _ fuck.  _ It was even more  _ relieving  _ than he thought it'd be. His hair was feeling...  _ clean _ . Lighter, maybe even a little softer. The weight seemed to ease off of his head––weight he had grown so used to he hadn't even noticed. Wet bangs fell into his eyes; maybe a haircut was in order too. The taller seemed to think the same, brushing Baekhyun's hair back with a hum once the soap was rinsed out and then moving to grab the shampoo bottle once more. He needed another round of shampoo to get a thorough cleanse.

"I think you're due for a trim. Though I'm surprised it isn't longer... you cut it yourself didn't you?"

“A few times.” Baekhyun nodded, leaning his head back again as the other’s fingers began to scratch at his scalp with shampoo-coated fingers once more. “Long hair is a hassle. An annoyance and a danger—easy to grab for both the dead and the living.”

“Smart.” 

The rest of their time in the shower was silent, simple enjoyment of each other’s company. Chanyeol let Baekhyun wash his body himself, seemingly shy as he passed the smaller of the two the soap bar which earned a hearty laugh from him. It felt nice to be clean from head to toe for the first time since the day this all began.

It took Baekhyun some time to get used to being part of a community again, especially one consisting of more than a few people. Everyone seemed genuinely nice though—something almost unheard of nowadays. A few people donated him clothes they had found that would fit him, Chanyeol helped him cut his hair, and not a day went by that he had to worry about food rations. Of course nothing was free, but he didn’t mind that at all. He primarily helped with agriculture. Vegetables, fruits, livestock; it was quite the change from his old pace, no more scavenging or running, but a place he could call home even if the outside world was hell brought to the surface.

It had been around two weeks since his arrival. He lived with Chanyeol—taking up one of the extra rooms in the leader’s house, though it wasn't unlikely for him to end up sleeping in the same bed as the man. 

Not too long ago, they were enemies. But now… there was a whole new aura in place. Neither quite wanted to address it, awkwardness biting at the air between them and keeping their tongues caught in a mutual cage.

Until Chanyeol’s seemed to find it's way through the boundaries.

It had been a rather long day for the both of them. One of the pigs had escaped so Baekhyun spent his day chasing the poor creature around like a farm dog. The sight was quite humorous to everyone  _ except  _ him. Chanyeol on the other hand had been out on border patrol, making sure nothing dangerous was getting far too close for anyone's liking. Unfortunately, remnants of a passing herd had made the day much more difficult than usual with far too many close calls—not on his part, but the others patrolling with him had definitely almost had a limb or two gnawed off. The two of them were cuddled up together, limbs entangled, definitely way too close for comfort.

“Hey, Baek— nevermind.”

“Huh?” The fluff of soft curly brown hair atop Baekhyun’s head bounced as he lifted his face from the other’s chest, blinking a few times. “What is it?”

“Come up here.”

Brows furrowed together to form lines of confusion in the center, but Baekhyun did as he was told and shifted his legs free from between Chanyeol’s to scoot up closer to the man’s face. Rough palms cupped his cheeks, thumb rubbing over the skin and a small smile drifting onto chapped lips.

_ Intimate. _

Chanyeol leaned forward and Baekhyun let him, their breaths mingling together between them only to ghost on each other's skin. Slowly but surely the distance was closed, pairs of lips meeting halfway and melting against each other. Heads tilted to the side, lithe fingers reaching up to tangle in Chanyeol’s dark locks while rougher hands fell to cup the soft skin of Baekhyun’s nape. The kiss was like the melody of a song; lovely, harmonious, complimenting the lyrics that flowed along with the rhythm. 

Soon hands began to wander elsewhere and the softness blended into something more passionate; tongues tangling together, thighs placed on either side of bony hips, body's moving into more of a sitting position. It took some time before eventually—and reluctantly—one of them had to pull away, both of their breaths heavy and the air around them growing hotter. Calloused fingers gently tugged the loose fabric of a t-shirt over the smaller’s head, the boy returning the favor by doing the same to him.

And then the world seemed to flip upside down and somehow he was staring up at the ceiling, legs hooked around Chanyeol’s hips and the latter's teeth tugging at the skin on his jaw. Mark after mark was possessively placed, along his jawline and down the scarred skin of his neck and his chest, each one drawing whimper-like noises from Baekhyun's lips. He was unraveling  _ oh  _ so prettily with every bruise that began to form.

But Chanyeol wanted to hear more of him, wanted to draw out  _ louder  _ sounds.

His mouth attached to one of Baekhyun’s nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around one nub while a hand toyed with the other. Success. He couldn't help but grin as a moan bubbled up through the boy’s chest and passed his lips.  _ Perfect.  _ Repeating his actions on the untouched nipple, Chanyeol made sure both were puffy and swollen to his satisfaction before he worked his way further down, tugging at the boxer briefs that hid––unsuccessfully––Baekhyun's erection.

With the help of the boy beneath him, the shorts were successfully slipped off and thrown elsewhere––discarded on the floor with their t-shirts. Baekhyun's skin was a pretty tan color from years of travelling in the hot sun, marred with scars and scabs from close encounters and dangerous pathways; but Chanyeol's body was no better––scars far more plentiful due to his time under Jongdae and Minseok––and regardless, both of them liked the imperfections etched into their skin. It showed they had worked hard to get this far, to survive as long as they did, and that was an achievement in itself. Nothing came easy these days.

Chanyeol's plan was to continue his attack of love-bites and kisses in the newly exposed area but Baekhyun had other ideas as their positions changed. Within a split second Chanyeol was now below him, blinking in a daze and barely registering the removal of his own briefs.

"Baek...?" He inquired, leaning his head up only for it to plant right back down against the pillow with a soft groan as the wetness of a tongue came in contact with the head of his cock, swirling around the tip teasingly–– _ tauntingly. _

Baekhyun's turn to be in charge. His tongue continued to tease flesh until he became impatient, taking more of the length into his mouth––slowly, but surely––until he reached the hilt. Gagging slightly, he held his head there briefly before he eventually had to begin bobbing his head in order to allow himself to successfully breathe through his nose. It didn't make the action have any less of an impact on Chanyeol though, the man biting the back of his hand to stifle his own pleasured sounds at the feel of Baekhyun's throat constricting around him. One thing was for sure––Baekhyun doesn't mess around.

Chanyeol was too caught up in what Baekhyun's mouth was doing to notice the fingers pumping in and out of the boy's hole. Prepping himself, making sure he was stretched and ready to continue taking the other by surprise—to continue being in charge. He had a habit of not letting himself be vulnerable.

Once he felt Chanyeol’s cock was thoroughly coated in his saliva, much to the man’s dissatisfaction at the feeling ending so soon, he pulled his mouth away and settled his hips above the others. Before he could grasp what was happening, eyes widening and lips parting to speak, Baekhyun sunk down and drew nothing but a squeak-like noise from his throat. Chanyeol found him beautiful, Baekhyun found his responses precious.

Letting the both of them adjust to the tightness and the stretch, hips remained still while upper halves met halfway and lips pressed together for a slow kiss—lithe fingers tangled in freshly cleaned locks, strong arms encircling toned waist. There was no rush, no hasty movements, just two bodies resting comfortably locked together as one, enjoying the safety of the shared room and the warmth of their breaths on each other’s lips. A knock could be heard on the door and a soft call of ‘Chanyeol?’ echoed through the hallway. The only response was a low groan and a laugh from Baekhyun––the person outside quickly scurried away to leave the two to their fun. 

Since the beginning of the apocalypse, having the time for something as intimate as sex is almost certainly a sign of security. Of course, you don't want your body nakedly exposed to any form of attacks, or parts lodged where it may make it difficult for you to quickly flee. To them, this ease of intimacy meant things for once were okay. Neither of them were at any immediate risk, neither of them were too plagued by fears, they were okay.

Baekhyun began to move his hips in a slow rolling motion, Chanyeol’s hands perched on them and giving the skin there a squeeze; their eyes never once broke contact, foreheads pressed together and breaths in sync with one another. Bodies moving in a paired rhythm, they kept this up for a while before Baekhyun was flipped on his back and Chanyeol took over again—this time with the smaller more willing to show vulnerability.

Toned legs wrapped around Chanyeol’s hips, lips attaching to the skin of Baekhyun’s neck whilst thrusts became sharp, deep, making sure to give both of them pleasure with every push and pull. Once their song had finished it's final verse, a final pull occurred and strips of white painted defined stomach muscles—both of them trembling as pure bliss coursed through their veins. The duo finished the night off with a second round in the shower whilst merely attempting to get clean, heading to bed with limbs entwined and souls more aligned than ever.

Neither of them knew this nirvana would be their last moment of peace in the compound.

Baekhyun awoke with a start, gasping as he jolted into a sitting position. Chanyeol had been shaking him in an attempt to get him to wake up which brought him out of his dream paradise with a metaphorical rock crushing his chest—a fear he was being attacked.

“Sorry… Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you but we have to go.”

His brain didn't register the words, blinking mindlessly in the other’s direction.

“Go?”

“Yes. Here—” Chanyeol passed him a clean pair of clothes before quickly beginning to pack as much essential supplies as he could into duffel bags and backpacks: one of each for both of them. “Put those on. I'm almost done with the stuff.”

“But… it looks like you’re planning to go for good, Chanyeol. What's going on?”

“We've spotted a herd.” 

Baekhyun half expected him to be joking, but the look Chanyeol was giving him screamed seriousness. They were in danger.

“A herd? You've handled those before though.” Baekhyun scratched at the top of his head, stretching out his arms and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“There's living scattered amongst it. By firing weapons we risk drawing the herd completely toward us in which case we cannot handle the mass influx of walkers. Without attack the gates can be opened by the intermingling bandits, in which case we would still have to resort to a fight—a fight we would lose.” He sighed out. It was clear those who had been on border rounds discussed every outcome thoroughly. What a shame such a good group had to end like this.

Baekhyun still wasn’t convinced on the plan though, nervous about the safety of the rest of the compound. Some of them were unable to hold their own, some of them were children. “What about everyone else?”

“Don't worry, Baekhyun. Everyone on the patrol shift has gone to prep their own homes.”

A sigh of relief escaped the boys lips; begrudgingly tossing the covers aside, he put the clothes on that Chanyeol had picked for him and then moved to help him finish the bags.

“Are we leaving as a group?”

“No.” He shook his head, zipping up the cargo and putting his backpack on and settling the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder. Baekhyun mimicked the action. “Too risky. Everyone is splitting off. Unfortunately, the group no longer exists as a whole. If we run into them, we are no longer required to show mercy—not that violence is needed but… you know… anyone can become an enemy.”

The conversation ended there as a loud bang could be heard against the walls. The peril had arrived.

The duo made haste in running down the stairs of their cozy home and out the back door, sneaking through a hole in the fence Chanyeol had created before returning from his patrol meeting, and taking off in a sprint away from the danger. 

They weren't very far when shrill screams fell upon the otherwise quiet night, causing Baekhyun to flinch and Chanyeol to grimace—some people weren't fortunate enough to escape it seems, but was there much more that could've been done to prevent that?

They traveled on foot for what felt like weeks, and it might've been—only stopping in decrepit houses along the way to eat and take turns getting a few hours of rest. Eventually they reached a city that seemed to be a ghost town which was highly uncommon, bandits often secured these areas for their camps. Markings on the walls and bodies destroyed in ways which an undead monster could never have managed lead to the conclusion that it was at one point used as a bandit camp, but there was no sign of the camp now. Camps were only abandoned if they were driven out by danger or all resources had been stripped bare—and with no sign of fighting, it must've been the latter.

Maybe it would be a good place to settle. The bottoms of Baekhyun's feet ached and Chanyeol's back was struggling to keep up with the weight of the bags. Both of them needed more than a few hours worth of rest.

“Let's find somewhere to hole up, okay?”

Baekhyun didn't seem very pleased with that statement.

“Baek. I know cities aren't the safest place to be but maybe I can find us somewhere decent. We have to put our stuff down first so that I can do that, yeah?”

The boy merely huffed, walking towards the closest building. Baekhyun learned never to go anywhere deep in the city. Stay in the outskirts and you have an easy escape, go to the middle and you've fallen into a difficult trap to wiggle your way out from. 

He went up to the second floor and chose a room close to the fire escape, putting their bags in the closet to keep them hidden in case something did happen—he was letting  _ no one  _ steal them, even if it meant fleeing and sneaking back to grab them. 

Chanyeol was gone for around two hours, he thinks, but time wasn't measureable anymore. In the span of his search he hadn't found much, but there was a locked apartment on the fourth floor of their current building. It wouldn't be safe to assume that a locked room equated to safety, so of course using paper clips he had found in a nearby room, he picked the lock and surveyed what he had to work with. Inside was an office, completely untouched—he assumed it was visible from the outside windows, bandits usually never left anything as is unless they deemed it useless, and it was. The windows had no curtains, giving the outside a view in. There was a room in the back of the office with no windows whatsoever and some general office food supplies as well as a whole corner that wasn't anywhere near visible from the street. He and Baekhyun could make this work. The room could be for sleeping and the outside for cooking or maybe vice-versa; a windowless room was better for keeping the aroma of food trapped inside.

He fetched Baekhyun and the two made it upstairs with their items. The two stole mattresses and blankets from the neighboring apartments and shoved them into the hidden corner, settling themselves in and then locking the door behind them as if nothing and no one had come in. Once everything seemed at ease, Baekhyun plopped facedown on the mattress.

“What should we have for dinner?” Chanyeol inquired, only to be greeted by silence. “Baekhyun…?”

No response. Chanyeol poked him.

Dead asleep. Exhaustion kicked in as soon as he laid down.

It was the first time Chanyeol had laughed in days.

Things seemed okay here but the two of them knew it was only a temporary solution. Nothing was permanent in the remnants of the world. If it wasn't the monsters, it was the living. If it wasn't the living, it was yourself.

No one is safe forever.

The peace lasted a few days until they were sitting in silence together on their beds, curled up against each other’s sides, reading novels they had salvaged from remnants of employee's belongings. Books were never stolen during raids for goods, literature was basically useless when always starving and on the run, but until their supply stockpile dwindled it was deemed that they would both rest. 

Footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Baekhyun's breath hitched and the book fell from his hands, Chanyeol was quick to cover both his own and the boy’s mouth.

Whoever the intruder was fiddled with the door for a while until it became silent again, but the feet at the door never left.

And then… 

_ Click. _


End file.
